YMMV / Blood Whistle

• Cliché Storm: Classic characters turning into violent psychopaths, excessive amounts of blood (the wording stopping just short of describing it as "hyper-realistic"), the game's main character supposedly being a sentient being, the player continuing to play the game before eventually killing himself... the fic checks off every "haunted game creepypasta" cliché.
• Narm: Listing every individual instance of this would just result in posting the entire pasta so for brevity’s sake… the entire story. Whether due to the cliches, the incredibly melodramatic protagonist, the rampant Purple Prose, or such gems as the protagonist unironically questioning if the hack was made by the Illuminati- all of it culminates in a story that is impossible to read with a straight face.
• So Bad, It's Good: The whole story is so cliched and ridiculous that it’s impossible to take seriously but it makes for a hilarious read due to that.
• Wangst: Bradley likes to whine about how miserable he is after playing a scary Mario ROM hack. It's made more egregious by the fact that 1.) the narration was totally casual, immediately going up 10 notches verbose-wise once World 1 is completed, and 2.) the only hint at all that the game is supernatural is the game addressing him by name at the very end - several days after the game has driven him insane; the rest of the story doesn't even have any Maybe Magic, Maybe Mundane moments. A few examples:
  My whole life before I hit up on my arrow keypad was completely different. I was happy. I was normal. I could wake up in the morning recognizing my own reflection, being absolute about my safety. Now it’s lies. All lies. I know that as of what happened today, my life will become an infernal hell in which every day will be a futile struggle to retain my own sanity.

  After finishing this wretched collage of electronic dejection, I will embrace death like a long lost lover with open arms. Now to get on with what had come to pass.

  Today being D-Day fits, because I’m fighting one hell of a war against this game (and a losing one at that).

  I’m starting not to care anymore. I am in the throes of such a severe depression it’s all starting to fade away. [...] My grandfather died when I was young, but that didn't close to equate what I'm feeling now.

  I felt abandoned and alone. Just like Mario sitting in the middle of that ice field. I felt as if no one would save me from the torture of this game.

  This game has caused me sorrow on such an ineffable level that there is no other option.

  Hell itself is what the game brought me to. I suppose that this was intentioned to convey world 8. No, not hell. WORSE than hell.

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